The Irrefutable Flame⎪✓

❨05❩

♀︎

"I had a fabulous time tonight, Dakota," Flynn smiles taking a step closer to me, the proximity makes me slightly anxious and I don't know why. He smiles at me gently and grabs my hand in his, "Hopefully we can repeat the success."

Looking around my neighborhood I hope none of my neighbors are seeing his advances, some part of me feels slightly ashamed to be doing this in the public eye. Which is weird considering what I did with Elijah in the woods during one of our sessions. I meet his eyes again and stop the sexual thoughts of Elijah, "I did too, maybe I can cook for us next time."

Flynn looks indifferent as I once again volunteer to cook for us, I love cooking and I wish he'll want to eat a home-cooked meal with me at some point. His eyes don't seem too keen on the idea though, and a droplet of disappointment floods over me. Somehow I already had a feeling what his answer would be, but I still had a little sliver of optimism that he wanted to try dinner at my place. I don't know why I expect him to change his ways. 

"We have so many possibilities when we marry to dine at home," He declares being completely earnest, a breath hitches in my throat roughly. "I'm in no hurry."

Had any type of food or beverage been in my mouth, I would've designed his pretty shirt in it by the absolute shock of his words. He literally just mentioned marriage on our date and four months into the relationship, there must be a rule about that somewhere. He can't genuinely think that's okay to do with a girl who has a difficult time committing as it is. 

I sense eyes on us, as I glance around the neighborhood again. Not one sign of life anywhere and I wonder if I'm being too paranoid, that must be it. The darkness almost swallows us anyway, it would be hard to see exactly what we're doing. 

"Uhm, yeah," I gracelessly mumble, the spell of our date completely destroyed. The idea of him suddenly feels so wrong, which shocks me because he truly has been one of my better options. Maybe I'm trying to settle for less than what I want, is that what I'm doing with Flynn? If so I need to get myself out of it, "Well, once again, thank you for tonight."

He takes a sudden step forward, his arm snaking around my waist. The flutters in my stomach don't appear and I frown by the revelation, usually I would feel the smallest sliver of excitement by skin on skin contact with him. His free hand lands clumsily and roughly on my shoulder as he gradually tugs me closer, his eyes are tightly shut with his pursed lips. He can't kiss me. This feels wrong.  

His lips inch closer and before I know what happens, my firm palm places itself on his puckered lips, stopping his movements altogether. I instantly place a small kiss on his cheek and tear myself out of his grasp. His eyes are bewildered, but I don't have the heart to acknowledge it when I hurriedly walk towards my house, throwing a 'bye' over my shoulder as I lock the door behind me. 

I did NOT just do that!

Why the hell did I do that?

Oh no, he must be so fucking embarrassed, why can't I just let him kiss me? 

Glancing out of the door viewer, Flynn's standing in the same spot seemingly offended and confused. He doesn't move for minutes before he shakes his head and throws a nasty glare in the direction of my house, he rushes into his car. The engine rumbles as he drives away from my neighborhood, and I pound my head against the door. By inflicting the tiniest bit of pain I can hopefully forget what just happened. 

After my little fit, I throw my heels off and walk into the kitchen. Grabbing an apple and a glass of wine, the food at the restaurant wasn't anything near enough and I'm currently starving. Flynn paid for the bill, I know it must've been expensive considering the single tiny leaf on each plate. Another reason why I enjoy eating at home, I can eat as much as I like without judgment and I'm the boss of how much food will go down. 

As I fling myself onto the soft couch, my frustration increases. Downing the entire glass of wine, I choose to drink straight from the bottle instead. This is probably the most useless date I've ever been on, he was uncomfortable and pushy, trying to ask about Elijah without actually demanding an answer and it bothered me to no end. Especially when I was hopelessly trying to forget about him.

My phone buzzes and I see my mom on the caller ID, her constant perfect timing never ceases to amaze me. I contemplate ignoring her call, but if I do she'll somehow know and the calls will never end. Accepting, I place the cold phone against my ear, "Dakota Moore."

"Penelope Moore," She imitates me in a deep voice, her attempt at comedy is pathetic."Why aren't you coming home for thanksgiving? I just heard that you declined the invitation."

Just excellent, I've been waiting for her call.

"I have work," I state with finality, this isn't a matter to discuss. 

She scoffs, "You mean you have to show up the place you dropped out of college for? Are you dropping your mom for it, too?"

"Mother," I warn in a stern voice, she never knows when to stop. 

"No, Dakota. Thanksgiving is an important time for me, especially with your dad's death, you will be here," The demanding tone in her voice as clear as day.

"Let me know then, if it really is so significant, can you stay away from alcohol long enough for it?" I confront her, she truly has been better, but I can't bring my bitter ass away from what happened during those years. She still drinks, but she has stopped asking me for money. I don't know how she gets her money anymore and I don't care to know either.  

"I won't drink with you around, I never have."

"That's a lie, mother. I won't stand here and accept you manipulating me into joining you for Thanksgiving, you're welcome in Hetdale if you truly wish to see me. In my house there is no tolerance for parents who drink though, you might want to prepare yourself for that adjustment."

The tense silence descends over the phone and I have my answer, she doesn't care if we'll be together for Thanksgiving. Her and I still aren't on good terms, she's still a pathological liar and I hate the woman she has become. I only wish for the old mom to come back, the one who truly loved me with everything she had. This stunt with Thanksgiving is very representative of her, mother clearly relishes in the attention. 

"Will you be here or not?" She snaps, the iciness in her tone not anything unusual. 

"I've told you this before on countless occasions, mother. I'm staying in Hetdale and managing the shop."

Before she says anything else a beep tone meets my ear, indicating that she hung up on me without another word. This is the usual behavior that I dislike and need to stay away from, she's acting like a child and I won't allow her to affect me anymore. It's an old joke by now, I don't think her and I will have a functional relationship again. 

Laying on the couch again, I toss my phone onto the carpet, taking a lengthy swig of my bottle of wine. I love my own company and I make a mean turkey, Thanksgiving will be more enjoyable by myself in the house I've fallen in love with. Not with my mom drunk on some substance, trying to make small talk when I don't care about that side of her anymore.